


Cariad

by Scribe_and_Vibe



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe_and_Vibe/pseuds/Scribe_and_Vibe
Summary: Post Threads. Navigating a relationship with someone who has been your CO for 8 years is a tricky thing
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter & Jack O'Neill, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79





	Cariad

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note: I loved this show but I've never dared before write any fanfiction for it. I never thought I could get the voices right. But I've rediscovered the show during lock down and this just came to me. I'm still not sure I've got the voices right but I thought I would put it out there anyway. It's been fun writing it.
> 
> The problem with 'Threads' was that not much was tied up when it came to Sam and Jack. And was ambiguous at best for the rest of the franchise, right through to Stargate Universe. This is an attempt to flesh out the story while trying to remain canon compliant as much as possible, despite not watching all episodes of SG1 post season 8 or all episodes of Atlantis and SGU. Apologies for any errors on continuity. Oh and there's no Pete bashing in this fic. At least not much. Just as a warning.

She stepped out on to the balcony. The crisp air like a balm to her fraying nerves. She knew that people were only trying to be kind but she wasn't sure she could cope with any more sympathy.

She wasn't sure what was worse. The head tilt or the tone. Perhaps it was both of them together. "How are you doing, sweetie?", in the tone with the head tilt made her want to scream. The hand on the arm just topped it off.

She took a breath and closed her eyes and tried to tell herself that people were only being kind, that she had probably done the same thing to dozens of people when roles were reversed. Except maybe she hadn't. She knew *this* too well. Had known *it* for too long. Grief and her were old friends. She never did the head tilt. She never did the tone. Okay she may have done the hand on the arm but that was it.

She knew why she was so aggravated by it. She was at that stage. Where the numbness that had set in was beginning to loosen, and any emotion, particularly anger and frustration came too easily. Where irrationality won over rationality.

At the grave she had caught sight of a woman she didn't recognise and watched her wipe away a tear. And for half a second, a brief ridiculous moment, it had made her angry. What gave that woman the right to be so upset? It wasn't her father, it wasn't her family. Why was she crying?

She shook her head at herself in exasperation. She had found out later that the woman had been her father's assistant before he retired. He had been a mentor. A friend. The woman had every right to shed a tear. She'd been there in years when Sam had admittedly probably not been much of a daughter, and when Jacob (if she was being honest) hadn't been much of a father.

It was just all...too much. Her hands covered her face and the tears came. Flowing freely as if they would never stop.

She was an orphan now. No parents.

No fiancé either. Or a best friend for that matter. All gone.

Oh god the dam had burst.

The dam she had kept tightly inside her all day, all through the service, all through the burial, all through when they handed her brother the damn flag. Had kept it together even when she saw her niece and nephew's grief stricken faces. Hadn't buckled when General Hammond had told her how proud Jacob had been of her or when she had spied her now ex-fiancé in the back of the church giving her a supportive smile.

Pete.

God she didn't deserve him. And he hadn't deserved how she had treated him. 10 days before the wedding and she hands the ring back. What a bitch she must be. How screwed up must she be to have done that?

What had he done but be the supportive boyfriend who accepted her weird, dangerous, universe saving job? He'd moved his life, his career for her. Had waited patiently for two weeks for her to say yes to his proposal. Bought her the exact house she had described on their first date. And yet, it still wasn't enough for her. What was? The tears flowed harder now.

She wished Janet was here. With a bottle of wine and a take no shit attitude. She'd be sympathetic but straight forward. There would be no head tilt. No tone. There would be the hand on the arm, but it had been known to squeeze too tightly if you were really annoying her. She wouldn't allow wallowing. Not for wallowing's sake.

She missed her so much. She wondered if she would have stayed so long with Pete if Janet had still been alive. When Janet had met him for the first time she had raised an eyebrow at Sam that said 'Really?'. Who knows what would have been her reaction at her marrying him. Oh that was better. She could blame Janet dying for her latest engagement failure.

Her descent into despair was momentarily halted by footsteps on the stairs. She knew who it was immediately. She was well trained that way. Or perhaps had spent too many years in the field with the person in question. As he stepped out on to the balcony, the brief moment of control she gained awaiting his arrival fell apart and she crumpled into sobs.

"Oh Sam," he said, not in *that* tone but in one that knew. That understood. And he probably did. He was an orphan too. Had been one for most of his life.

His arms went around her and she leaned into him as he kissed her head. He had known too much death too. Too much grief. They all had.

He handed her a tissue and she realised that he had come prepared if the wad of tissue paper in his pocket was any indication. It wasn't unlike him to have pockets full during hay fever season, which it currently wasn't.

"Have you come to tell me I should go back down?" she asked him in between blowing her nose.

He shook his head, "Jack asked me to check on you. He thought you might be up here."

She nodded at him, "I just needed..." she crumpled again and Daniel held her tighter.

After a few moments she had calmed again and looked up in to Daniel's face. He smiled at her gently, "You can stay up here as long as you want you know. Between Jack and General Hammond, they have it all under control. Jack mainly by providing all the beer and General Hammond by telling Jacob war stories."

Sam snorted, it was a normal Air Force wake then. Her brother must be hating it. Oh no, she had abandoned Mark. Her concern must have shown as Daniel quickly reassured her, "Mark and his family are fine. The kids are in the den with Teal'c playing video games. Your sister-in-law is making sure everyone is fed and your brother...well surprisingly he's mainly hanging out with Jack and drinking the beer."

"Mark's hanging out with General O'Neill?"

Daniel nodded in reply.

Sam blinked, "I don't know whether to be relieved or worried."

"They seem to have bonded."

"Over what?"

Daniel smiled at her indulgently but she wasn't entirely sure why.

"And as well as making sure I brought tissues, Jack said I should bring you one of these," he handed her a bottle of beer.

Sam smirked, beer, the answer to everything according to the general. She sat down gesturing to Daniel to do the same. He'd gone through a lot himself these past few weeks. Given that her evil twin had tortured and 'killed' him recently she should be relieved he was willing to be anywhere near her.

Daniel pulled out his own bottle of beer and reclined next to her and Sam briefly wondered why the General had two chairs up here. She took a deep swallow of her beer as she remembered the stunning CIA agent Kerry Johnson.

Well that stung.

She wondered if Daniel knew.

Probably not. But then a lot about their relationship was unknown to her. On paper they shouldn't get on. Sometimes they didn't. But she was pretty sure Daniel was the General's best friend. And she was almost sure the General was Daniel's.

"Have you met Agent Johnson?" Sam asked.

"The CIA agent?" Daniel asked casually, too casually.

Sam nodded.

"Briefly."

"Daniel?"

"Sam?"

"Fine. Don't tell me anything," she huffed in frustration.

"What makes you think I know anything to tell?"

She looked at him and he blinked innocently back at her. And they both dissolved in to laughter. Daniel was a terrible liar. And a few beers in he was even worse.

She leaned back in her chair still smiling, beer in one hand. And then she felt Daniel's hand in her other. Unquestionable, unconditional friendship.

And for a moment she felt at peace.

-SG1-

An hour later Sam felt much calmer, and helped a tipsy Daniel down the steps and into the General's lounge.

Mark and Alison were curled up on the couch, chatting to General Hammond, the kids and Teal'c were no where to be seen so she suspected they were still gaming in the den. The other guests were gone.

Mark rose as she entered the room and opened his arms, she stepped in to them with a smile. Not feeling quite as brittle as she did a few hours ago.

"You ok sis?"

"Yeah. You?"

Mark nodded, "General Hammond here has been telling us some stories about Dad."

Sam looked at Hammond with a smile and he smiled back, "Jacob and I had many good times serving together."

She nodded and looked around, Mark caught it and gestured outside, "Jack is outside putting the barbecue on. Thought we'd all stay for a few burgers before heading back to the hotel."

Jack? Sam raised her eyebrows, she couldn't even think of him as Jack half the time and now here was her brother, making himself at home in his house, drinking his beer, staying for dinner and calling him Jack!

"You've let Jack loose on the grill?" Daniel asked with trepidation and at her brother's confused look Sam held up her hands.

"I'll go and supervise."

"I'm not sure that's going to make the quality of the meal any better," Daniel muttered loud enough for everyone to hear and she glared at him before stepping out into the yard, closing the door behind her as everyone laughed at her expense.

To be fair to the General, he did look like he had things under control. Burger buns piled at the side next to a range of condiments and not too much smoke or the smell of burning. Yet.

He turned towards her as she stepped up to him and she tried very hard not to remember the last time they had stood like this. His eyes roved over her, checking she was ok and in tact. She smiled in response and he offered her one of his unopened beers which she took.

"Daniel's drunk."

The General snorted, "You never learn Carter. You've got to cut him off after two."

She grinned as she twisted the cap off, "It's just so much fun to watch."

"Evil."

They stood there in companionable silence for a while, Sam watching him flip burgers like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

She felt, rather than saw, him flick a look to her, "How you doing?" he asked casually.

"I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes at her, "Really. I promise. I may have had a moment earlier," she admitted and he nodded in response.

"You sent Daniel at the right time. Thanks for that."

"Well I had to do something with him. Two beers and the secret Stargate programme wouldn't have been secret for much longer."

Sam giggled and he raised his eyebrow at her, "Maybe Danny boy isn't the only one I should cut off after two beers."

"I've got an excuse."

"Hmm."

She watched him, focused on the grill and felt a wave of gratitude for this man. He had practically arranged the funeral for her, offered his house for the wake, had been the perfect host. And he was still here. Taking care of her family. Taking care of her.

Always, he had said.

She stepped up closer to him, "Thank you sir."

He raised his eyebrow at her, "For what?"

She shook her head at him in mock annoyance, "The funeral, the wake, looking out for my brother and his family. Feeding us."

He nudged his shoulder with hers and gave her that half smile that she loved so much. She wondered, briefly, if she should start the conversation she had wanted to have the last time she was here. Although given that the Head of Homeworld Security was only a few feet away, as was her brother who also happened to be the best friend of the man she had just jilted, now was probably not the best time.

Not to mention that it seemed he had already moved on.

He nudged her again and nodded at the grill.

She rolled her eyes.

"I am not pouring beer on it."

"Carter, how many times?! Secret ingredient."

She laughed. And she realised it didn't matter if he had moved on or not. Regardless of anything, he'd be there for her.

Always.

-SG1-

Ten days later Sam was trying to do everything she could to distract herself from the fact that it should have been her wedding day. Pete, the sweet guy that he was, had called her the day before to see if she was doing ok. He'd even offered to take her to lunch, but she thought that might be a bit weird and she hadn't wanted to give him the wrong impression. So she turned him down and said she'd call him in a few days.

She'd turned up at work, much to Daniel's surprise. The General hadn't said a word but she'd caught his shrug at Daniel's concern. What else did they expect her to do? Her brother had returned to San Diego with his family a week previously. She'd cleaned her house from top to bottom. Her motorbike had never been more finely tuned. She'd tried going for a ride but the bike had steered itself to the mountain and Sam decided that she shouldn't try to fight it any longer and instead try to lose herself in one of her projects.

Daniel had tried to pry her away for some lunch but she'd refused with a grunt. Fully immersed in her work. Teal'c had brought her some jello later, which she'd acknowledged with a grimace. He had merely raised an eyebrow at her and left just as silently as he'd arrived.

It was some hours later when the General finally arrived at the door to her lab. He stepped in cautiously. Daniel and Teal'c must have given him the heads up on her mood. Traitors.

She watched as he absently picked one of her doohickeys up and she tried not to wince as he chucked it from hand to hand. She should probably warn him not to do that but it normally just made him worse.

"Sir?" she asked, fully prepared with all her arguments if he tried to get her to go home.

He stared at her and finally, thankfully, put the small alien grenade down.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out his cheeks. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was nervous.

"I'm hungry."

She looked at him, confused, "Er..ok?"

"I'm going to go to Frank's, the Italian place."

"Don't you have to wait for SG5?"

"They came back two hours ago?"

"They did?"

"You didn't hear the klaxon?"

She stared at him. She hadn't. At least she couldn't remember hearing the klaxon. Wow, she must have been more caught up than she realised.

"Okay. That's it, Carter. On your feet. Let's go."

She blinked at him. Was she hallucinating again? That was exactly what he had said to her…

"Don't make me make it an order," he cut off her chain of thought. She looked between him and her work. She was a little hungry.

"Spaghetti. Meatballs. The best wine."

She did like Italian.

"I'm paying."

He grinned.

She grinned back.

A couple hours later found her at a small table in the back of a small Italian restaurant, a delicious meal in front of her, a fine wine in her hand, laughing at her CO and his rendition of how SG2 had come back covered in luminous slime while she had been off.

"Remember Slimer from Ghostbusters? Feretti said the alien looked just like him."

"Poor SG2. Always with the slime."

The General chuckled and she stared at him. He rarely chuckled. He seemed relaxed. And happy. There weren't many people in the world that deserved to be happy as much as he did. And while she couldn't help the pang of *something* to think that it was someone else that had caused it. Another woman. She was happy he was happy.

She took a gulp of wine, they hadn't discussed Agent Johnson. Or Pete for that matter. Or the day she turned up at his house to tell him she was thinking of calling off the wedding. And very nearly told him the other thing that had been weighing on her. That had been weighing on her for a very long time.

She wouldn't tell him now. It wasn't fair. And he probably wouldn't want to hear it. But she did want him to know she was happy for him.

The waiter came to clear their plates and she twirled the wine glass on the table in front of her. Trying to draw the courage to raise the issue. The General was focused on the dessert menu, oblivious.

"Stop thinking Carter."

Okay maybe not oblivious.

He looked at her over the menu, and sighed. And waited.

"I was just wondering. Perhaps we should have asked Agent Johnson to join us."

His eyebrows raised comically, "Excuse me?!"

Shit. She tried to backtrack, "Sorry Sir, I didn't meant to bring up something personal…

He waved it away, still looking awkward, "No. That's not a…It's just…" he stuttered and this time she couldn't help her eyebrows from raising.

"Agent Johnson and I… we're not…" he gestured helplessly. And Sam felt something like hope build in her chest.

"You're not…?" Sam pressed and he stared at her. He seemed to make a decision and she suddenly felt nervous.

"Apparently I have 'issues'," he air quoted.

Sam looked at him in confusion, "Issues?"

He nodded and gestured between them, "Issues."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I thought…"

"Yeah."

"I mean I could talk to her, explain that we never, that we haven't, that…" Sam rambled until she felt his little finger lightly touch her hand. To calm her she imagined, except it made every hair on her arm stand on end.

"She wasn't that far off base," he swallowed deeply, "At least not for me."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I didn't, I mean, I thought that…" she sighed, frustrated with herself. And with them. Could they have this conversation. Now? Here? On the day she should have been marrying another man? While he was still her CO?

"Sam," well that made her stop, "We don't have to talk about it now. Or ever if you don't want to. But when you do, if you do, then I'm here."

She nodded, some of the panic receding.

The General picked his menu back up and nodded at her to do the same, "Dessert's awaiting Carter."

"Yes sir," she smiled at him.

Silence descended on them. Slightly awkward and she could see him shifting in his seat.

"Sir?" she questioned.

He coughed slightly, "Carter do you think, that when we're off base, having dinner, like any normal colleagues, friends etc, that you could call me Jack? You calling me 'Sir'…anyone listening in is going to think I'm…ya know…"

She giggled, "That you're what?"

"You know fine well what, Carter," he all but growled at her.

She rolled her eyes at him, "Perhaps it would be easier if you didn't insist on calling me by my last name all the time."

"Fine. Sam, would you for the love of God, please call me Jack when we are not at work?"

"Yes, Jack."

He smiled at her then. A big Jack O'Neill smile and her stomach did somersaults.

"By the way," he said casually, oblivious to what he was doing to her insides, "Danny and T are coming up to my cabin next week. Ten days of R&R. Fancy coming along?"

She stared at him. Was he asking her to go fishing?

"Land of sky blue waters…"

Oh she was so screwed.


End file.
